Dance spell

Once we made it to the roof, the celedon was easy to find. She was in human form, standing at the edge of the building with her arms spread, serenading Times Square with her own rendition of "New York, New York."

I crept up on the celedon, who was now belting out the final chorus.
Even though she was facing the other way, her music filled me with the urge to dance (which, believe me, you never want to see). I forced myself to keep going, but fighting her magic was like pushing my way through a row of heavy drapes,
My plan was simple: Gag the celedon. She would turn back into a bird and try to escape. 1 would grab her and shove her into a birdcage*
What could go wrong?
On the last line of "New York, New York,” I jumped on her back, locking my legs around her waist and yanking the blindfold across her mouth like a horse's bridle.
Her grand finale was cut short with a “New r Yor—urff!”
"Grover, now!" I yelled.
The celedon stumbled forward. I had a dizzy¬ ing view of the chaos below in Times Squarecops trying to clear the crowd, lines of tourists doing impromptu high-kick routines like the Radio City Rockettes.

SoA pg.33-34